S Rozhdestvom Kristovym
by Pocky of Doom
Summary: "Prompt: Food-play and dub-con. Characters: Russia and China; America and Japan if more are needed. Make me nosebleed!" And that is why this exists.


It was… a bit uncomfortable, to put it mildly.

It was not that Yao didn't like Ivan. Oh, no. On the contrary, he enjoyed the Russian's company quite a bit. They shared similar ideals. They got on well enough, they generally found it easy to talk to each other, and most of the time, the larger nation was quite kind to him.

However, that was just the thing - Ivan was larger than Yao. A fair deal larger. And here he was, invading the Asian's personal space.

He didn't really understand why this sudden invasion of his private square was taking place. He had only been walking through the house - his own house, mind you! - when suddenly Ivan stepped in front of him, impeding his progress and moving his face a few centimetres or so too close to the Asian's in the process.

Of course, Yao also couldn't figure out why the Russian was dressed as Santa Claus - he didn't want to know what was in that sack - but somehow that didn't seem like the most important thing in the world right now. (He was, however, grateful that Ivan had decided against wearing a beard.)

"Ivan," Yao muttered, trying very hard not to breathe against the Russian's face, "what exactly is it that you are doing, aru?"

Ivan smiled sweetly down at the other nation, shuffling closer to him. "Comrade Yao, you have certainly heard of 'mistletoe,' da?"

"What…? Er, of course I have, aru," Yao replied, blinking a bit and with a confused look on his face. "I-I think the tradition began in ancient Scandinavia… it was considered a sacred plant… and if, by chance, enemies ended up meeting beneath the mistletoe, they would lay down their weapons and call a truce until the next day, aru…. And the tradition evolved more in 17th century England… when two people were caught under it together, the man was given the privilege of stealing a kiss from the woman… after he had done that, he would pick a berry from the plant hanging above them, and when all of the berries were gone, he wasn't allowed to steal any more kisses from girls beneath the mistletoe anymore, aru. Of course, in this day and age, all the young people have forgotten about the berry-plucking, so the privilege is never taken away from them, aru…. A-at least, I believe that is how it goes. Why do you ask, aru?"

"Well, you see," Ivan chirped, his smile growing even wider, "if you could possibly look up - though there's no real need for that other than confirmation - you would see that we are standing under a bunch of mistletoe right now."

"E-ehh?" Yao blushed, shoulders hunching a bit in tension. He did, however, look up to see that they were indeed under a sprig of mistletoe. He had not hung such an object in his home, but lo and behold, there it was, probably put there by Ivan himself (or possibly as a prank by Yong-Soo, though if it had been him, the Korean certainly would have stuck around until he had captured Yao under the mistletoe himself. In any case…). He looked back at Ivan, who was still grinning toward him in a sweet but somehow maniacal manner, and slowly shook his head. "Ehh… weeeell… yes, it would seem we are under some mistletoe, aru!" He gave a short, nervous laugh, and tried to back away, only to find Ivan's arm against his back, holding him firmly in place. "B-but that doesn't mean we have to… er, you know… k-kiss, aru! After all, the tradition is meant for a man and a woman-"

"Oh, that is not a problem at all, Comrade!" Ivan chuckled, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning closer to Yao's face. "After all, it's not as if anyone has to know… aside from that, you're close enough to a woman, anyway!"

At this, Yao gave a rather indignant cry. "Excuse me? What are you trying to insinua- mmf?" His complaints were cut off short as Ivan's lips sealed over his own. Yao let out a squeak, putting his hands against the Russian's chest and trying gently to push him away. To this, Ivan gave a small growl and reached up to nudge Yao's head a bit closer to his own. "N-nn…." Yao's face contorted in annoyance, he gave a more forceful shove to the larger man's chest, and while he was successful in breaking the kiss, he found himself still trapped in Ivan's arms. "I-Ivan, you are overstepping your boundaries, aru!"

" 'Overstepping my boundaries?' Whatever do you mean by that, Comrade Yao?"

"I mean," Yao muttered, "that you are entirely. Too. Close."

" 'Too close?' " Ivan repeated, a mock look of innocence on his face. "This is 'too close?' But to stand near each other is a good way to keep warm, da…? Surely you know that."

"Kissing," Yao snapped, wriggling in the Russian's arms, "has nothing to do with keeping warm."

"Oh, but of course it does…! I wouldn't want your lips to get cold, you see?"

"No, I don't see, and I would like you to let me go, aru!" Yao glared at the man before him, looking at him with the most defiant look he could muster. Ivan was not at all impressed, and he leaned in again to kiss the Asian. Yao gave a small cry of protest, fisting his hands in the fabric of Ivan's shirt and clamping his lips tightly shut. But this time he found that Ivan was going about this rather gently, just barely pressing his lips against the other's, languidly massaging Yao's mouth with his own. It was actually somewhat… pleasurable. Though the smaller nation still tried to reject Ivan's advances at first, he slowly relaxed, practically melting into the Russian's arms and shyly returning the kiss with just the smallest of whimpers. At this, Ivan gave a smirk, and deepened the kiss, trailing a hand down to rest at the small of Yao's back, the other still tenderly coiled in those long, dark locks.

After a while, they parted, Ivan with a calm-yet-smug look on his face, and Yao panting for air, his face tinged with pink. He looked up at the larger nation for a moment through half-lidded eyes, searching the man's face and seeing nothing out of the ordinary except for eyes clouded with lust.

He found that he didn't particularly mind.

Yao pressed up against Ivan and wound his arms about the Russian's shoulders, chuckling softly to himself as he worked a leg between Ivan's thighs - 'is that a bottle of vodka, or are you just happy to see me' - and pressed another kiss to those soft lips. Ivan gently tried to pry Yao's lips apart with his own, and though he gave just a moment of hesitation, Yao was rather happy to oblige when it came down to it. Ivan slowly searched the other man's mouth with his tongue, sliding his hands beneath Yao's button-up shirt (although he dressed in somewhat more traditional clothes when he was out and about, Yao did like some of the more modern fare when he was in the privacy of his own home). The Asian shivered at the light touches of Ivan's fingers (and at the flood of cool air that hit his bare skin) and tightened slightly his grip around his shoulders.

Ivan was the one who broke the kiss this time, causing Yao to blanch in surprise and disappointment, which, in turn, caused Ivan to beam and give a small laugh. "Don't look so upset, Comrade! It's only for a moment, da? No worries." With this, he knelt down, withdrawing his hands from the smaller nation's shirt and instead grasping at the waist of his pants. Through the fabric, he planted a teasing kiss on the head of Yao's presently-growing erection, eliciting a rather delightful groan from the man's parted and swollen lips. The dark-haired nation tangled his fingers in Ivan's hair, bucking rather insistently against his mouth, small moans catching in his throat and escaping as pathetic whimpers. Ivan looked up at him with an amused smirk, and he clicked his tongue in a scolding manner. "You seem so eager, Malen'kaya! And to think, only minutes ago you were trying so hard to push me away…."

"B-bi zhui," Yao muttered. "I-I changed my mind, I'm allowed to do tha- ahhn." Ivan pressed another kiss to the inside of his thigh, lingering there for a moment before standing, removing his gloves and rummaging about in the sack he'd brought with him. Yao was a bit suspicious. "…what do you have in there, aru?"

Ivan gave a sickly-sweet smile and tilted his head, looking innocent or confused or both. "Oh? It's just Christmassy things, da? Snacks and that sort of thing. I thought maybe you would like some, Comrade."

"Er… thank you, aru…?" The Asian lofted an eyebrow at his companion. While that was a very sweet thing to do and he appreciated the thought, it seemed like an odd time, choosing this precise moment to reveal the gift. Unless it was part of a plan…? Some ulterior motive…? But no, Yao thought, he should have a little faith in the Russian. So he smiled back rather politely, tilting his head in the opposite direction. "What kinds of snacks, aru?"

"Gingerbread… candy canes… chocolates, you know, those kinds of snacks!" As if to demonstrate, he pulled a tiny gingerbread man and popped it into his mouth. "It's very good, da. Try one?" At some point, Ivan had grabbed another cookie and was holding it up to Yao's lips. The smaller nation looked up at him incredulously, but was met with an unwavering, and fairly unnerving, open-mouthed smile, so he just ate the treat.

And it was pretty delicious, actually. He chewed slowly and ponderously, thinking that this tasted much sweeter than most of the Russian's food usually did, and losing himself in that thought. So lost was he in this thought that, in fact, he didn't realise that his shirt had been unbuttoned and removed until something soft, warm, and just a little wet pressed against his bare skin. Upon snapping out of his little reverie, however, he gave a muffled squeak and gazed downward. It appeared that Ivan was drawing on Yao's torso… with his thumb… in chocolate.

"Ivan." Though Yao was trying to put a warning edge on his voice, it didn't work so well when he wavered. "What. Are you doing. Now, aru."

"I am drawing a picture for you, moi drug!"

"…you are drawing me a picture, aru."

"Yes, a picture."

"…on my chest."

"Yes."

"…in chocolate, aru."

A joyful smile towards the Asian as he licked the excess chocolate from his thumb - "Da!"

"…wei she me, Ivan?"

"Because, Yao… just look how nicely it looks!" He gestured towards Yao's chest and stomach, where he had smeared a rather crude, chocolate hammer-and-sickle. "It looks delicious." Here he gave a childish laugh, and a shiver ran down the smaller's spine - and perhaps not just because his shirt had gone missing. "It looks so pretty against your skin, da."

Pink spread across Yao's cheeks, and he shook his head vehemently, hunching his shoulders as if trying to hide. "I-it doesn't look pretty, aru! It looks messy and it's not meant to go on my skin, aru." He noticed a strange look on the Russian's face at this point and quickly changed his wording - "I mean, it's a very pretty p-picture, aru, but… I don't think it goes w-with my skin colour…? And it feels funny. M-may I please wash it off?"

Ivan pondered this for a moment or so - a moment or so in which Yao considered breaking out into a cold sweat - but then the larger nation nodded with an amicable smile. "Of course! But, seeing as I am the one who made this mess, I will help you to wash up, da?"

The Asian let out a breath he had not realised he'd been holding, smiling back and nodding as well. "Thank you, aru! That's very kind o- ah-ahhh-!" In next to no time at all, the Russian had dropped to his knees in front of Yao and was now slowly licking the chocolate from his chest. "I-I-Ivan, what are you-!"

"I'm helping you wash up, of course, Comrade." His tongue trailed over a nipple, and Yao found himself shivering and fisting his hands in the other's hair. "Since, as we discussed, this is my fault."

"I-I thought you meant, that you'd-" A moan. "I-I don't know, bring me soap or something like that, aru…."

"Well, I could certainly do that, too." Ivan gazed up at him with a bored look, as if he did this every day. "If that's what you'd like."

There was a long pause, before Yao gave a pout of his lips and a small whine. "Well?"

"Well what, Comrade?"

A deep blush. "Well… I didn't tell you to stop…."

A wide grin crossed Ivan's face, and he happily went back to his careful licking, slowly moving across Yao's chest, and down to his stomach, and oh God he just kept going downward-

And suddenly stopped again.

Yao gave a disappointed groan, and his fingers curled against Ivan's hair. "I-Ivan, why did you stop…?"

The only answer he was given was to be pulled roughly to the ground, where the Russian instantly pinned his arms above his head with one hand. The free hand delved back into his bag, from which he pulled a small bottle filled with some kind of milky liquid. He set this to the side and set to work at removing Yao's pants. Yao gave a whine of protest, though he did help things along by wiggling his hips and raising his legs off of the floor. "Why are you- what are you-"

"Shh, shh, don't fuss, dorogoi! You are going to like it, da?"

"W-wait a minute- I didn't say you could-"

"Well, then may I?"

Yao looked up at the man looming above him, and though he knew how crazy Ivan could be, how utterly cruel and horrible and insane… the fact was, he trusted him. A little. Mostly it was that Ivan looked rather sexy at the moment, and Yao was rather horny at the moment. So the Asian gave a tiny nod of consent, and Ivan continued.

He rid himself of his own clothes first (Yao blushed and turned away, feeling it was rude to watch in spite of what they had been doing and were about to do - and it was somewhat intimidating to see Ivan that way, when he was so obviously… sizeable even when clothed), and then popped the cap off of the little bottle. He poured some of the liquid into his hand and smiled again at Yao - "relax, dorogoi" - before pressing one finger slowly into his entrance.

To this, Yao gasped and gave a long, drawn-out moan, half of discomfort and half of pleasure. "I-Ivaaaan…." His muscles tensed as he felt a slight burning inside him, but whatever had been in that bottle was soft, cold, and more than a little distracting. It soothed him gradually and he managed to calm down a bit, his breathing shaky but even.

As soon as he saw signs that the smaller had relaxed, Ivan added a second and third finger, drawing more gasps and moans from the lithe form beneath him. He worked gently, scissoring his fingers and massaging that liquid into Yao, brushing a fingertip teasingly against his sweet spot now and again, eliciting small cries from the Asian and bringing a mischievous grin to the Russian's face. Finally, with one last taunting curl of his fingers, Ivan pulled out, with Yao giving a low groan, feeling suddenly rather empty.

Aside from that, he was also feeling rather… warm. This seemed strange, since his house was a bit chilly to begin with, and he was, after all, lying quite naked and spread-eagled on the floor. Not that he minded - it was a very pleasant warmth, spreading all through his body, from his face to his feet - but it seemed odd. So did the fuzzy-headed feeling he was having… though he found himself unable to worry about it. Everything felt too nice.

Ivan observed his partner's changing facial expressions with some amusement, and he cocked his head to one side, slowly stroking his half-hard arousal to prepare it for the deed. "Are you okay, Malen'kaya?"

Yao smiled up lazily at the Russian. "I'm even better than okay. Everything is so warm and fluffy, aru... I feel kind of…"

"Drunk?" Ivan offered.

"Yes, drunk," Yao repeated, nodding slowly. "How did you know, aru?"

"That'd be the eggnog."

"What eggnog?"

"Never mind. Are you quite ready?"

"N-n'hn." Yao gave another slow nod, grabbing at the scarf that was still around Ivan's neck. He tried to pull the larger nation down atop him for a kiss, but the Russian stubbornly stayed where he was.

"Not yet. I have to…" Ivan muttered to himself in Russian as he positioned himself at Yao's entrance, and the Asian gave a little moan at feeling the head pressed against him. "Okay, dorogoi, relax…."

Yao did as he was told, and Ivan pushed in at a torturously slow pace. Yao continued to give small cries and whimpers, wriggling and trying to get the other man to move in and get it over with…! When he finally hilted himself, they both let out a tiny groan. Ivan gently hooked the Asian's slender legs over his shoulders, pressing a quick kiss to a thigh before carefully lifting Yao's shoulders from the ground and wrapping an end of his scarf around them. Usually, Yao would've been puzzled by this, but at the moment he found he couldn't bring himself to care.

Ivan fucked him slowly, lazily and deliberately thrusting, pulling back, pushing in again, not even bothering to angle his thrusts. Yao whined, fingers curling in the fabric by his head and pressing back against the larger nation. "I-Ivan, please go faster…!" He didn't have time for this teasing, he was already so close…!

The Russian wasn't going to speed up at first, but looking down at his companion's flushed face… well. He couldn't quite help himself. He chuckled and moved his lips against Yao's own, angling himself this time and thrusting hard against the Asian's sweet spot. Yao gave a loud cry into the kiss, arching upwards at the sensation and clinging tightly to Ivan's shoulders. "A-ahh…! Yes, right there-! D-do that again-!"

If it meant more of those noises, Ivan was glad to oblige. He moved quickly inside the tinier nation, attacking that spot repeatedly, harder each time. Delicate fingers dug into his back, causing his shoulders to tense slightly, but he could not have cared less.

After a while Yao pulled away from their kiss, leaving a (rather erotic, he noticed) trail of saliva between them. He couldn't quite catch his breath, and spoke in between thrusts and cries. "Ivan, I'm- ah-! Going to- nn- c-come…."

"I'll be right behind you, dorogoi." He sealed his lips over the other man's again, giving one final, hard push before finishing. Yao keened at this, and as he went over his limit, shooting sticky white seed between the two of them, he gave out a quiet scream of pleasure.

They both laid there for a moment, trying to catch their breath. Ivan pulled out, eliciting a soft groan from the Asian, and he moved to lie beside him, wrapping an arm around him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Yao nuzzled against him, face flushed and glowing, and quickly fell asleep.

Outside, Kiku lowered his video camera and Alfred stared on wide-eyed, a stream of blood emerging from his left nostril. "Did they just…?"

"Yes."

"And you…?"

"Yes."

"And you're going to…?"

"Of course, Jones-san."

"…damn." The American wiped violently at his nose with the back of his sleeve (not thinking about the fact that blood does indeed stain) and Kiku wrinkled his own nose in distaste. "Come on now, Jones-san. I must get to work making copies."

Alfred nodded, stuffing a tissue in his nose and scurrying to follow the Japanese man to wherever he was going. They left the two other nations to sleep in Yao's home - where they'd be spending a lot of time… keeping each other warm in the days to come, as, after all, there was a blizzard on the way. Not that Ivan had planned his visit around the weather forecast, of course.


End file.
